


Swine's Head

by GodlessBastard



Series: Iowan Beasts [1]
Category: Slipknot (Band)
Genre: Bestiality, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Might write more like this, Other, Pig Head, This is called "Shawn's Adventures with a Pig's head" i dont know what the hell you expected, shawn is a gross old man, that's all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 19:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29954700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodlessBastard/pseuds/GodlessBastard
Summary: "Shawn leaned back against the worn seat, trying to roll his shoulders; the muscles tense and even sore. His eyes had shut, mouth pursed in an expression that looked as if he was debating something fierce before the sharp ice-melt eyes were cracked open again. Sliding back over to the 'gift'. Curse that fucking butcher. Shawn huffed to himself. Damn sew-shut, all tied up in plastic wrap pig's head. It was much too hot out for this."Oh boy. Lord help me
Relationships: Shawn Crahan/Pig's head
Series: Iowan Beasts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2203113
Comments: 11
Kudos: 4





	Swine's Head

**Author's Note:**

> Last Warning :0
> 
> Tumblr: Godless--Bastard  
> Also open to collabs!

The clown grunted, heaving the large plastic trash bag over his shoulder. It reeked that sort of raw-meat that had been sitting in the sun kind of smell. Lucky for him, the butcher had been kind enough to wrap the heads in smaller plastic bags before shoving them in the even larger industrial-sized trash bag so they didn’t leak all over the inside of the van which already smelled of death. Then again Shawn was carrying another one of the smaller bags, the plastic handles clutched in his gloved fist. Glancing down at it again as he stepped down off the sidewalk outside the butcher shop and into the parking lot. The bag was sloppily tied shut, stinking of the same “meat-smell” that seemed to permeate the thick warm air around him. The butcher, a man whose left eye skewed farther than his right and who looked like he’d been born on the blood-encrusted floor of the shop, had grinned wide at Shawn; chuckling as he handed the clown the extra bag. Something about a _‘Gift’_ for his _‘favorite customer’._ Shawn had done little more than cock an eyebrow and grunt with acknowledgment. 

Swinging the back door of the van open, briefly setting down the out-of-place gift next to him on the metal floor before setting the other much larger bag down from his shoulder. Careful not to jostle the contents too much. Nose wrinkling, a sigh on his lips as he made sure the bag won’t bust open during the drive before standing back straight. Turning to eye the _‘gift’._ His knee creaking as he kneeled down to pick it up again before making his way out of the flung open door, elbowing it shut behind him. The sun was much too hot, to be back in it even for a second, he could feel sweat gathering on his brow, hair sticking to his skin. Rolling up his sleeves again as he sat himself in the van’s front seat, searching through his pockets for the keys and finding them; though he set the keyring on the dash for the time being. Quickly stripping off his blood-stained gloves and shoving them in a different pocket. He’d disposed of the grimey white plastic bag on the passenger’s side seat. Now resting on top of a few forgotten music magazines, he could just vaguely make out a stain of blood gathering under the opaque plastic. Shawn sucked in a deep breath and reached over to the tied-up knots of plastic, trying and failing to undo them a few times; finally pulling some of the plastic away. His fingers catching contact with cool but dry-ish skin. Shawn squinting for a moment. 

Despite having pulled the van doors shut, he’d neglected to switch the engine on yet and the air was becoming even more stuffy. Seeping all the real energy out of his body, and apparently any real logical process from his mind. As it took him a few seconds to understand what he was looking at. Moving a bit more of the plastic out of the way to see the full animal’s head. The distinctive pointy ears and snout should have really given it away. The sewing shut eyes adding a slightly morbid touch. Shawn couldn't help but let out a snorting chuckle. A pig’s head. _Funny._ He usually got horses, that's what all the other bags contained. But, it had been a gift. The thing looked reasonably fresh, though it's not like Shawn dared to lift the thing out of its wrapping, _yet._ Hopefully, if there weren't maggots this time, they wouldn’t dry and stick to the floor of the van like glue. The little things were devil’s to clean. 

Shawn finally pulled his hands away, though not before pinching one of the pig’s ears between his nails. The thin membrane finally “popping” and letting his nails sink in. No blood started flowing, however, just cool flesh all around. It was almost tempting in a way. Briefly wiping his hand on his trousers before grabbing the keys off of the dash and starting up the engine, flicking on the fans much to his relief. The clown signing at the gust of cool-ish though still sticky air that raddled from the vents. Trying his best to concentrate on the road as the pig’s head stared eyes-sewn-shut from the passenger's side. A small ooze of now-dried blood creeping up the left jowl. 

He wasn't sure why he’d parked the van behind the slightly run-down warehouse of a building. A few tags made with spray paint, _probably from Sid_ , stood out against the old concrete and the backdoors which he could see were still chained shut. The space inside is stuffed with all manner of equipment, musical and otherwise. A welding kit next to a drum set was nothing out of the ordinary. Though there was almost always enough space to record something decent. Shawn’s eyes briefly flicking up to the sky for a second, just judging by where the sun was, it was late afternoon. Hot and sticky air clinging to his skin. And no one would be there until later. _He had time._ The clown huffed. The van may have been parked in the shade, but it was still hot and he should probably move the horseheads inside before they started to rot just from the heat. But then, his eyes trailed over. Finally landing on his would-be passenger; sewn-shut eyes still looking up at him, skin still a dead-palish shade. 

Shawn hesitated. The recollection of the cool skin under his fingers caused a shiver down his spine. Tearing his eyes away to glance around again. He may have done more than a few _debatable_ things in his life, but he’d prefer if sometimes stayed private. Taking a moment to try and steady himself, even reaching down to the lever underneath his seat to allow the chair to roll backwards; just to have a bit more room. Shawn leaned back against the worn seat, trying to roll his shoulders; the muscles tense and even sore. His eyes had shut, mouth pursed in an expression that looked as if he was debating something fierce before the sharp ice-melt eyes were cracked open again. Sliding back over to the _gift. Curse that fucking butcher._ Shawn scoffed to himself. 

He was much too hot at the moment for his brain to function to find an excuse to _not_ do what part of him very much wanted to. Plus, _it's not like anyone would be around to see it._ He couldn’t stop his hands from reaching over to the passenger's seat. Gathering up the pig’s head in his hands, lifting it out of some of its plastic wrapping, though one, in particular, was stuck by crusted blood to the bottom. Finally setting the thing down, balancing it on one of his thighs. The thing felt like a block of ice even through the fabric of his pants. His hands almost sticking to the skin of the animal’s head, some of the blood flaking off under his touch. Shawn grunted, settling down in his seat and staring down at the thing, one of his hands helping it to balance on its perch and the other wandering down to the snout. The thin spiky hairs brushed against his touch, and the flesh seemed to get more _wet_ as he ran his thumb into the cut of the mouth. Pulling the sealed cold lips apart, a mixture of blood and what must have been something like saliva collection on his finger. Thin but almost a little bit sticky fluid connecting his thumb to the pig’s lip as he pulled away his hand, examining it. Blood caught under his nail, and now the pig’s mouth was tilted just so slightly open. The inside wet and _cold._ Shawn huffed, shifting in his seat; lower belly starting to get even more uncomfortably warm. His finger’s twitching with some slight hesitation before prying their way back into the pig’s mouth. 

The suggestion of teeth brushing against his fingers, though they weren’t sharp, just dull numbs and the texture of the pig’s tongue and inner cheek far outweighed them. Rough, just rough enough to be appealing. Shawn sliding his fingers through the lip’s mouth, unsealing the thin layer of dead-made seal that had held its mouth close. Scissoring his fingers to pry the jaw open, stiff with rigor mortis but creaking open. The strings of shiny saliva thick between the jaws. Not fully open but just enough to slip inside a few fingers. Shawn made a deep rumbling sound in his chest. Bad decisions be damned, he wasn’t getting out of this. Removing his hand from the swine’s lips and barely even bothering to wipe it on his pant legs before going to undo his belt. Unclasping it and sloppily unzipping the fly with a grunt. Glancing up and away out of the van’s windows again. _Nobody._

Breathing catching sharply in his throat as his hand wrapped around his dick. The thing throbbing in his palm, hot and beading precum at the tip. The clown gasped for a breath of thick air as the dick finally escaped the enclosure of fabric. Though the opressing humid air wasn't much better, if only serving to make his brow furrow and his eye twitch as he wrapped a broad-palmed hand around it and ever so slightly squeezed. The other hand steadying the disembodied carcass head dug its nails into the tough skin, the cold seeming to radiate off of it was going to drive Shawn mad. Not that he wasn't debatably mad already. Hand squeezing again as a bead a precum splattered on his pant leg. _Fuck it, why not._ The clown sucked in another long breath, trying to sloppily move the pig’s head into a more ideal position, tilted so the snout was just barely an inch away from the dick’s tip, which seemed to twitch in anticipation. 

The smell of rotting blood and meat really shouldn’t have made the hairs on the back of the clown’s neck stand up, his hand steading its grip on the carcass's flesh as he guided it forwards just enough for the cold snout to rub on the sensitive head of the cock. The clown let out part of a staggered breath as the precum smeared over the soft surface. The cold already teasing in little shocks. Shifting just a bit, now his dick was starting to press to the pried open lips, slick with blood and sickly fluid. Both softer and yet more textured than he had imagined as he couldn’t both to control himself, bucking ever so slightly into the cold mouth. The carcass's head brought even closer as the clown grit his teeth. He could feel the pressure of the thing’s tight jaw firm around his cock and it was deadly enticing as he dared to buck his hips again with a held back grunt rising from his chest. 

The pig’s head now practically in between his legs, trapped between his thighs; hands supporting it as the cock in its jaws slowly pushed more and more inside. The nubs of teeth applied an extra spark of pressure and next-to-pain as they scraped along the sensitive erection’s underside. Shawn barely had his dick halfway inside the pig’s tight, cold, _terribly_ appealing mouth, and he was already panting and his hands were unconsciously flexing their grip. Hips jolting forward again when a slight shift in the carcass's position tilted it downwards and pressed the bumpy rough-textured tongue to the underside of his dick. The movement only caused more shocks of pleasure to dart up and knot in the clown’s lower gut with an almost embarrassingly needy pant quickly following. Though it was bitten back before it could escape his throat. He wasn't that far gone. _Yet._

Shawn both quickly shoving the carcass's head forward and sharply jolting his hips until the rest of his cock was pushed far into the back of the pig’s cool throat. The tongue and teeth and all the little bits of the mouth getting the first audible sound to escape the clown’s chest. A deep heavy grunt breathed into the van’s sticky air. The pig’s snout pressed to his lower belly, the whispers tickling the skin, the mixture of blood and drool and other foul liquids already dribbling out into his lap. Though it’s not like the man cared at the moment, brain focussed on squeezing his eyes shut and forcing himself to pull the head just slightly away. The jaws almost too constricting to move. Shawn swearing he’d probably crack his teeth with how tight the muscles in his own jaw were clenched. _Fucking Christ._

The clown couldn't help but swear under his breath. Voice gravelly as he swallowed hard. Another now much louder grunt from the clown as his hips snapped forward again. Head tilting back against the seat, sweat trailing down his forehead and neck, seeping into the fabric of his shirt. Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. More blood oozed from the base of the carcass's head as he snapped his hips forward again, at this point his nails had made deep indentations into the grayish flesh. Even more of the various foul fluids leaking out of the carcass as the dick in its mouth started up a more cohesive but dreadfully slow rhythm. Thrusting in and out, all while Shawn grunted and panted for air. He could feel the heat in his lower belly arching up his spine in small bursts, the nerves sparking. 

More sweat tracing down his face, skin burning hot with the fluctuating heat all around him causing even more synapses to shortcircuit in his brain and spark more sharp bucks of his hips. The drool and blood of the pig’s mouth was slick and even now still cold, his dick throbbing between its jaws. Some of the peeling layers of skin around the edges of the mouth and neck dribbling blood as the head was jostled and moved. Shawn tried to regain a little bit of dignity after letting out a long deep whine. Forcing himself to slow down the erratic movements. Panting and raising a hand to wipe some of the sweat from his face with the back of a hand, the clown used that same hand to trail a few fingers up the pig’s snout. Willing his hips to do little more than rock in place as he tried to catch his breath. Finally reaching a sewn shut-eye, and using a thumb to push up on the eyebrow, a quiet rip of skin and membrane allowing the clown to peer into the sunken and rolled back eyes of the animal. His own head tilting to the side, a small grimace on his face. Though he was still rocking his hips, like he could really stop himself altogether anyway. He'd only passed to fool himself into thinking he was in control. Not that he really believed that either, a groan from his chest only siding against him. A part of him begging, _needing,_ to just get it over with.

A loud grunt clawing its way out of the clown’s throat as he resecured his grip on the Pig’s head, bucking his hips even harder than he had the first few times. The texture of the carcass's mouth now even more sharp and rough, almost unbearably so as his hips snapped forwards against and the knots in his belly tightened. His breathing uneven and raspy as his pace started back up, the rhythm sloppier than it had been before. Shawn grunting and shifting in his seat, shoulders hunching and eyes squeezed shut. More of the mixture of fluids dripping out of the corners of the swine’s mouth, as well as the backside of the head. The open esophagus slick and drooling into the nest of plastic bags that were rapidly becoming more and more undone around it. The smell of raw meat and metallic blood thickening in the air, with just a hint of sweat from the clown's own brow. Said clown huffing out a tight grunt of air and rolling his hips. 

The ice-eyes melted and clouded over, teeth still locked tight as he grit his jaw and even more sharp jolts of painful-bliss pricking up his body and spiking near the base of his skull. Too out of it to care about the pain, and even too out of it to care about how much he was sounding like a stifled heat-sick animal. Which at this point he resembled to some degree. The wicked tendriled of heat finally snapping in his lower gut as the clown bucked his hips again. Heat beat high in his ears, thrumming hard and fast. A long groaning sound rising from his chest, and body jolting and shivering in waves of sputtering fever. There was a moment of something like euphoria, almost. The cock set deep in the carcassed swine’s mouth throbbing, the cold tongue and what remained of a throat suddenly coated in a thick warm liquid. Trickling to cover the dead flesh, and even fucked a bit deeper by a few senseless thrusts of the man’s hips. 

Shawn huffing as muscles stiffened for a second then relaxed. His shoulders shook just a bit and his spine hunched forwards. His dick still slick and raw inside the pig’s mouth as he sat catching his breath. The blood running through his ears so hard he could barely hear. Grunting and screwing his eyes shut. Promptly refusing to look down to his lap for at least as long as he could, though now he was just trying to stand the feeling of his now quite sensitive dick trapped between the slimy jaws of the animal’s head. Finally gaining back control in his hands as he sucked in a deep breath of air. An almost painful deep sound from his chest as he tried to move the pig’s head from between his thighs. An even louder grunt followed as his dick was dragged from the inside of the thing’s mouth, the ejaculate and slimy mixture helping but still painful with the overwhelming texture of it. 

The pig’s head still half poorly wrapped in plastic bags, which Shawn lazily trying to hike them further up to cover more of the flesh. Though his own head was thick with fog that had yet to disperse and it felt like he was still catching his breath. The swine’s jaw crookedly open now, tongue out of place and one of its eyes still pried open with the stitching coming loose at one corner. The grayish lips drooling. Shawn couldn’t help the grimace on his own face, though even now he couldn’t find regret. If anything the experience had been exhilarating. Fresh. _Cold._

The carcass’s head blanched on his knee thigh, staring up at him out of its one half-open and sunken eye. The clown staring back at it with something indecipherable in his eyes. A moment of pause before he finally snorted, tilting his head to the side, neck popping. _“Better not get some sort’a disease from this.”_

  
  


Shawn stared down into the relatively shallow ditch. Ice-melt eyes narrowed, hair tied back. It was still hot out, though the thickets of trees around the area were occasionally graced with a breeze of fresh wind as the night made it nearly impossible to see without a flashlight. The back of his neck cold with dried sweat. He’d been the last to leave practice, making sure _everyone_ had left before quickly walking past his van and into the woods. Far enough away and down a small incline where he’d tossed the pig’s head. Which now sat unceremoniously in a ditch. The flashlight he was holding shone over the thing, reflecting the slimy skin and few plastic bags now in a mess around it. The smell is even more powerful now. Rotting and decay. Its eye gleaming up at him, the socket even more sunken. Shawn squinting at the small movement he spotted inside the mouth. Drawing just a bit closer and craning his neck to investigate. The toe of his boot pressing against the snout of the pig to help prop the mouth open. 

A shiver running up the clown’s spine. The inside of the mouth was gapping, the wriggle of maggots had set them serval deep in the caverns of its mouth. Gnawing away at the soft-rot tongue and slick esophagus. The edge of the swine’s mouth still stained with the now-dried remains of their earlier _encounter._ Shawn only paused for a second as he studied the squirming things. Their “skin” a slimy pale white burrowing their way into the dead flesh. Piling on top of one another, like they were fighting for the best bits. The clown’s knees creaked as he stood back, though his head was still tilted to the side in study. An almost amused sound rising from his throat. The last glow of the flashlight reflected off someone of the still-wet flesh of the carcass's mouth, the sunken eye glassy from inside the socket before the clown turned away. The maggots continuing to chew on the remains of the animal head. 

_“Fuckin’ maggots,”_ The clown scoffed, the corner of his mouth pulled up in just the hint of bemusement. _“Definitely would give me a disease now.”_

**Author's Note:**

> you get what you pay for, and I really like bacon
> 
> might be more in the future.  
> Requests Open!  
> 


End file.
